


adhering to a believer

by quillsand



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Canon Dynamics, Canon Era, Enjolras Gets Emotional About Revolution, Grantaire Loved To Watch Faith Soar In Enjolras, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 10:57:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13716225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillsand/pseuds/quillsand
Summary: Grantaire suffers from a deficit in belief; fortunately, there is one man he can forever count upon to replenish him.(In which Grantaire is drunk and seeks Enjolras out for a reaffirmation.)





	adhering to a believer

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt 'Enjoltaire + drunk confessions' which this... sort of is? I don’t know why or how it came out in canon-era,  
> bur here we are! (I say canon era, I'm not sure if I mean that. It's as close as I’ve ever gotten anyhow; at the risk of exposing any historical inaccuracies within, let’s just say this is set during an unspecified time period that may or not be the canon timeline.)

It is a well known fact that Grantaire prefers the assurance of disbelief over any ideal or conviction that could possibly be presented to him. He is a skeptic who lives in the shadows rather than seeking the sunlight. 

However, there are times, times that are less frequent than they are possible, where Grantaire will deliberately venture into the light.

Tonight is one of those times. 

The wooden table in front of him is already saturated with condensation rings, so it is unlikely that the addition of another will displease Enjolras. This thought is mildly calming to Grantaire as he announces his presence at the small table by setting his bottle down on it’s edge; blue eyes travel slowly up to meet the fixed gaze that awaits them, and eventually Enjolras permits his presence with an acquiescent nod of his head.

Thus far, the division of Enjolras’ attention has been evenly split between the papers in front of him and the quiet tone of conversation from Courfeyrac and Lesgles at the adjacent table. Grantaire’s arrival in front of him draws all of his focus to the other man. 

Grantaire, infamously renowned amongst their group for being loud and long-drawn, has never seemed to be such with Enjolras. His gaze is gentle, and when he speaks, his words even more so.

“Good evening, Enjolras.”

“Grantaire. Can I help you?”

“You address me well, yet I am beyond help.” Grantaire sighs. “Even yours.”

“Yes. You are drunk.”

“Ah, but that is a simple fact. I am drunk in the same way that you are just. ‘Grantaire is drunk’ they say, when they simply mean ‘Grantaire is’. Ha! Descartes would appreciate my philosophy, if only philosophy had anything worth appreciating.”

“Very drunk.” Enjolras amends. 

Grantaire waves a hand, batting away the comment. “You would berate me of my drunkenness even now? When the meeting is over and there is no more business to attend?”

“I would berate you of using my time, and your own, for such matters.”

“Pshh. After I had just commended you for your justness!”

“What is your purpose, Grantaire?”

However true it may have been that Grantaire approached Enjolras with intention, that intention is long lost to him now. “Nothing.” he replies sincerely. “Nothing at all.”

Enjolras’ lips part, another question so clearly about to stride forth, but Grantaire holds up a hand to stop it. 

“How is it that you can believe the nature of men to be so good?” It is spoken in earnest and with such a look that Enjolras finds he cannot dismiss it as another of Grantaire’s innocuous or meaningless queries. 

Enjolras’ voice is quiet when he replies, but no more soft for it. He speaks as he always does, with the intensity of a flame. Grantaire is enthralled, as he always is. “Mankind is good. The nature of man is not corruption, but love. We must learn, and by learning, we must love. It is this which makes men good- that which we have learnt and that which we are still learning; this is called progress. The progression towards a loving future, where no man shall suffer. This is what we are striving towards, and this is what we will achieve. That is how I can believe the nature of man to be good.”

Silence ascends their table once Enjolras is finished speaking; his words don’t merely cease to be, they’re carried forward in the air, they blend into the fabric of the universe, as if they have always been there and will forever be. Grantaire lets the full force of belief consume him for a few seconds; emptiness returning as soon as he no longer feels Enjolras’ convictions. 

He needs a drink.

Enjolras reaches across the table and grips Grantaire’s wrist where he has reached for his bottle. “The future will be good, Grantaire.” Enjolras’ eyes are only half-focused on Grantaire’s, having taken on that far-off quality of one who is already seeing a brighter world. Grantaire feels his mind clear, as if all the alcohol he’d consumed in the past hours has already ran from his bloodstream- seeing that expression on Enjolras’ face: that is enough. 

Grantaire lays his hand flat on the table, his bottle left untouched. He may not be able to envision a better future in the way that Enjolras can, but he can see the belief shine on in Enjolras’ being, and that satisfies him. Enjolras possesses enough faith for the both of them, and Grantaire smiles at him, softly, in gratitude. That Enjolras is willing to share his faith, is willing to let Grantaire follow him because Grantaire cannot walk alongside him; that is a debt for which Grantaire will never be able to repay, lest he were able to suddenly share Enjolras’ beliefs.

Enjolras does not return the smile, though he does incline his head in understanding. 

Accepting his dismissal, Grantaire confesses to Enjolras, as he always does: “I’ll lay my belief with you.”

It’s a statement he has echoed many times, and one that is often met with disapproval or even rebuke- however, upon this night, Enjolras simply considers the words, his eyes not leaving Grantaire’s until Grantaire himself has left.

Neglecting his forgotten conversation with Joly and Bahorel earlier that night, Grantaire reverts back to observing Enjolras from a distance, and reflecting upon how it is a strange thing indeed, to have witnessed the dawn and yet feel as though it is still night.

**Author's Note:**

> An alternative title for this fic was 'Author Pretentiously Flirts With Canon Era Style Writing' but I changed it to reference Hugo's introduction for Grantaire because, to my surprise, I actually quite like how this turned out. Nevertheless, it is new for me, so any comments would be appreciated! (One day I will write proper, well-researched canon fic with accurate, true-to-Hugo characterisations. One day.)
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3 You can find me on tumblr at [tattoograntaire](http://www.tattoograntaire.tumblr.com)


End file.
